Gifts
by kakashidiot
Summary: It's winter and Leon attempts to come to grips with his relationship with the Count. Christmas fic written in the summer? Don't ask. RandR.


I don't own Petshop of Horrors - sadly not my idea! But still!

Read and review! If you like!

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Gifts

"It's way too early for anyone to be up," Leon groaned to himself as he rubbed his eyes drearily.

_What the hell is wrong with these people?_

He paused as he realized –

_I'm no better, really…_

Tenth in line for the necessary wake up call on a cool winter morning – coffee.

_Urgh… seven o'clock – what am I doing up at this time? Really? Who am I kidding? I'm barely functional!_

"Hangover, Mr. Detective?" asked a light honeyed voice at my elbow.

"GAAAHHH!" I jumped up and whirled around. "What – wha – Count! What the hell are you doing giving me a heart attack like that?"

"Hoe? Did I startle you? You are – how do you Americans say it? – 'not on your game' this morning?"

"What the hell…"

"Such a vile mouth – even in the morning – when you seem to be half dead… Such energy…"

"I wasn't energized! You just freaked me out!"

"Eh? Freaked?"

"I was totally zoned out –"

"Zoned?"

" – Don't walk up to an armed man like that! You could have been killed!"

Count D's mismatched eyes lidded.

"Killed? Hardly."

There was a pause while Leon huffed. His eyes darted down to the small blue bag swinging from the Count's slim fingers (a navy dark blue polish on his nails).

"What are YOU doing here?" Leon's suspicious eyes darted around looking for the local mob boss and dealer.

Nothing in sight.

"Drug pickup? A dangerous animal delivery?"

"No, no… not at all! Our pet shop doesn't have dangerous animals – we sell – hopes –"

"Dreams blah blah blah – I've heard it before – and it's a sham! And you know it!"

"Well… then I won't argue… you seem to have made up your mind… it's a shame though…" The Count sighed theatrically. "A man is harassed just for an innocent trip to the local bakery…"

"Yeah, yeah – that sugar addiction of yours should be outlawed too."

"Nothing seems to make you happy – why do I try?"

"You don't. Don't even pull that bullshit on me…"

The Count smiled innocently.

Leon snorted.

He wasn't going to be deceived.

_No sirree…_

"You are in line for coffee, I see," Count noted as Leon moved up two spaces. "I prefer tea –"

"What a surprise –"

"But l do enjoy this shop's lattes. Have you ever tasted a caramel latte?" the Chinese man asked. "It's one of my favorite western drinks… Although humanity often leaves so much to be desired, the goodies it creates can be heavenly… Ahhh… there's nothing better than enjoying a steaming hot cup of caramel latte with a biscotti!"

"Count. You're scary," Leon deadpanned. "You like animals and goodies more than humanity? What the heck? No wonder –"

"So harsh!" sighed the Count again. "I just said –"

"I know what you said – don't twist my words!"

"That's my line!"

"There you go again!"

The bickering couple soon found themselves at the counter.

"Hey! Wait a second!" Leon interrupted as the Count ordered a caramel latte. "You're butting in!"

He paused.

"You USED ME! To get to the counter faster!"

"How rude!" The Count sniffed. "I'd never do anything so mercenary – but I thank you, Mr. Detective for being so kind as to let me go first!"

Leon turned a beet red.

"Although, I'd hurry up with your order – there are many people waiting for their turn…"

"COOUUNNNTT!" Leon roared as the Chinese man walked away sedately with a number in search of a table to sit down at. "Get back here! We're not finished!"

"What would you like, sir?"

"Count! We need to finish the talk! Oh – what? Oh… the same as him – whatever… here take this –" Leon threw down a five dollar bill absent-mindedly, half-turning, obviously impatient to rejoin his nemesis.

"Here you go!" A hot chick behind the counter winked. "I'll put you on the same number as your partner."

"P-p-partner! The hell! He's –"

She giggled and smiled. "Enjoy!"

Leon stomped over to his enemy – who was calmly cutting up the two coffee cake squares he had bought.

"I'm onto your game!"

"Really… Mr. Detective. So playful this morning! It's exhausting."  
"What's exhausting is you!"

"Hmmm… enjoying a latte on a cool morning is the best. Pity. In Asia, winters get cold – and sometimes… if we're lucky, there's snow –"

"Don't change the conversation, dammit!"

"What… I was just wishing for some snow – but not in Los Angeles. Highly unlikely, huh… I've always considered the white holiday of Westerners – Christmas – to be highly entertaining…"

"Huh? Really? I didn't think you'd go for the humanity mass mob shopping thing –"

"I didn't say I liked the people – I said I liked the holiday – the goodies! The sweets! The warm drinks mixed with light whiskies! Ahhh!"

"You would, heartless bastard."

"So cold…" whimpered the Count at the sight of Leon's glare.

"Well. Christmas isn't all that big a deal, really. My family's not close enough for a celebration – so I guess, it's party time for us bachelors."

"Drunk on Christmas?" The Count winced. "Seriously? That is pathetic."

"What do you do?" Leon asked. "Hand out presents to your pets?"

"Hmmm… That's another fun part of Christmas. But I've never done it before."

"Really? Well… it doesn't work unless you have somebody to give it to."

There was silence at the thought.

A waitress came up with the two hot cups – Leon glared at his cup – of white foam and caramel criss-crossing over the top.

"What the hell is this?"

"AHHHH!" The Count squealed, drooling over his cup, hands clasped, eyes glimmering with tears. "So delicious! The fragrance! The foam! Alicia-sama – this must be your best latte yet!"

Leon blinked as the chestnut-haired kindly waitress grinned, clutching the tray.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, Count! See ya 'round!"

She turned and hustled away – somewhere a bell dinged.

"They know you?"

"Of course. Such excellent food cannot be given it' due honor –"

"Or the cooks…"

"Pardon?"

"Nothing…"

November slowly passed by into December – and there was no snow, no harsh climates – just a pleasurable cooling in the air. As the 25th approached, Leon wondered what the Count was doing for the holidays. He'd gotten the weekend off – but as he considered his options – getting drunk, getting sick, getting drunk again, getting sick again – hanging around his filthy apartment – he frowned.

_What I need –_

Then he grimaced at a totally weird idea.

_Perhaps I should pop around tomorrow – Christmas Eve and all that… I'm sure he wouldn't mind…_

Passing by the coffee shop, the blonde detective paused – and smiled.

It was perfect.

The next day, Leon, came banging in as usual into the Count's store. He grinned at the small pieces of heather and mistletoe draped rather uncomfortably around the ornate decorated walls. There were several wreaths on the doors, and several branches hanging from the ceiling.

Leon couldn't help but roll his eyes at the red velvet ribbons and the greenery.

Really… does he even know what this is all about? Besides, dragons and mistletoe – just… don't… mix…

"Mr. Detective! What do you think? You find this to be looking fine?"

It was the Count – his black hair was hanging down as usual – but as if in mockery of the whole season, he had chosen to wear a red and green cheongsam with black pants.

Leon winced at the clashing colors. He turned and waived his hands at the greenery.

"Uhh… do you even know what this is for?"

"One of my favorite bakers' shops were all done up in this festive décor, so I thought I should imitate it – it's worked! Sales have increased! Isn't that great?"

"That's what I'm worried about…" Leon sighed. "Still…"

He pushed out an envelope toward the slight Chinese shop owner.

"Here."

"Oh? What's this?"

"What do you think?"

"You're on a case?"

"What makes you think that?"

"You always bribe me first."

"WHAT! I do not!"

"Stop being so indignant. You know perfectly well that is true."

"Bu – bu – wha – shu – JUST OPEN THE DAMN THING!"

Leon was still sputtering as Count D opened up the card.

On the front was a picture of raccoon peeping out from behind the snow branches of a pine tree. Inside was a simple, "Merry Christmas, From Leon".

"Oh! How beautiful!" Count sighed over the picture – and the coffee shop coupons. "This is enough for 5 caramel lattes!"

Leon looked down on the excited Count – and couldn't help but smile.

"Goodness! I nearly forgot!" The Count looked up. "I didn't know if you'd be coming by but –"

"It better not be an animal present –"  
"Oh no… giving a pet into your care would mean certain death."

"You'd kill me?"

"No. I meant the death of the pet."

"What the hell? You make me out to be a monster?"

"Monster? No. Merely a man… now if you had a wife…"

"Now you're matching-making me, mistletoe man? You're asking for it!"

"Oh… is that what this stuff is called?"

"GAAAHHH! You're hopeless!"

"Ah! Here it is," the Count said ignoring his companion's comments as he dug out a heavily ornate and perfumed envelope.

Leon carefully opened it, his eyes widening at the sight of coffee shop gift certificates.

Then he laughed, the Count smiled.

"I guess great minds think alike," the Count quoted. "As you Westerners say."

"Ha! Fools seldom differ."

"Eh… there's that too."

"Although, I'm not the one decorating everything with mistletoe – that's danger on the border of stupidity."  
"Oh! Is it poisonous for the animals?"

Leon blinked, then laughed.

"I don't know about poisonous – but they say that if you stand under mistletoe with somebody you have to kiss underneath it."

Count D tilted his head back ruminatively – Leon's gaze followed his – upward to the gently swaying branch of mistletoe above their heads.

"Oh my," the Count said smothering another laugh with a poker face. "I see…"

Leon chuckled.

Their laughter died down at the sudden awareness of –

They were alone and –

Leon blinked.

_What the hell am I thinking?_

Count D froze.

_What the hell am I thinking?_

The Count turned away abruptly, frowning.

_Of all humans – it had to be this one to bewitch me –_

"Well… um…" Leon said, backing away. "I've gotta go – see ya!"

"Sure."

Count D watched the broad back of his favorite nuisance – favorite human leave –

_Leon Orcot – what have you –_

Leon felt the Count's eyes on his back.

_That's just weird… I – what do I say? _

Still…

The next day dawned – hard and cold –

Leon nursed his hangover for several hours in the morning – crawled out of his apartment, feeling like shit –

Walked around, watching families going to church, gathering for reunions, coworkers going to another drinking party – celebrations –

Without thinking, his feet brought him to a familiar store – and then onward to the red posts of the pet shop.

The Count was on his doorstep, looking grave and austere as usual – watching the busy traffic –

"You're not open today? Are you?" Leon asked.

"No…" the Count said, hesitantly. He smiled secretively. "Only for you – perhaps, tea would be good?"

"Hmmm… well… as long as there's no sugar in it."

The Count blinked. "Of course."

"Then lead the way," Leon grinned. "I brought some –"

"AHHH! FUDGEMALLOW! From KARINA'S BAKE SHOP!"

Leon led the way down, the Count drifting after him in a sugar-induced drool frenzy.

It was a regular day.

A perfect ending –

And in a way, another beginning –

Another chance for giving.


End file.
